Aftershocks
by Vision in Blue
Summary: AU.  When the aftershocks live on after a traumatic event, Natalie struggles to hang on to the life she used to have.


**A/n: Hi there. This brainchild came to be when splitsevenways gave me a prompt after begging for one over the interwebz. (I was trying to appear busy to avoid talking to someone, and this came about.) After inspiration struck, I decided to make this more than one chapter. I THINK I WILL ACTUALLY FINISH THIS ONE. PROGRESS, EH? I've missed first person POV Natalie, and I've missed writing.**

**Props to splitsevenways (FEEL BETTER!), obviously, for the idea, populardarling for beta-ing and giving me inspiration to this (and for letting me use some of her dialogue from our roleplay), and bluestblood for being the Gabe I never had. (:**

**SUPER IMPORTANT NOTE: Trigger warning, self-harm (more so in later chapters.)**

**Disclaimer: My name isn't Tom Kitt or Brian Yorkey. You figure it out.**

I really don't know how he does it. It could be 1 AM on a rainy Wednesday night, and he could find me at the right club on virtually no sleep. Knowing this, it wasn't so much of a surprise when I saw a person walking toward the coat rack in the corner. The rhythm of the steps seemed familiar to me, and as the person bent down and parted the coats, Henry's face was revealed, sad and concerned.

"Nat," he said quietly, breathing a sigh of relief. "How long have you been here?"

I continued to look at the floor, curled up in the corner. When he gently touched my arm, I could only shrug back. He frowned, then sat next to me and pulled the coats across the rack to cover us. I didn't move when he draped his arm around my shoulder- it didn't even feel like I could move.

"You're the only person who noticed I was missing, weren't you?" I whispered, my eyes more fixated on a stain on my black dress than Henry.

"There's, uh, a long line for the viewing, Nat. I'm sure they're just busy," Henry replied carefully, thinking for a while before he spoke. I uncomfortably squirmed at the word "viewing"; I knew damn well what people were "viewing", and before I could dwell on it too long I made my mind think about something else. How many people were here, anyway- I stopped counting hours ago. And his excuse was a nice attempt, but it reeked of bullshit.

"Yeah," I swallowed. "I'm sure they are." Henry's expression mirrored my own, brave face and all, and when he reached to hold my hand, I squeezed it in acknowledgement.

"Are you okay?" I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut.

"I really just want to go home," I whispered.

"Nat, your dad needs you right now," Henry swallowed.

"He's been fine without me all day, Henry. I'm just really fucking sick of this place." Henry's lips brushed the top of my head before he started to stand. As he stood up, I tugged at the bottom of his pants leg. "Hey, if you're going back there, can you pretend you didn't see me? I kinda don't want to deal with anything right now." He nodded his head and extended a hand to me.

"Let's go for a drive, okay? Fresh air and new surroundings." I stared at his hand for a while, not looking at his face.

"We won't tell anyone?" I asked. He shook his head.

"We won't be out that long. Come on." I pulled myself up and my legs nearly gave out from under me. He steadied my waist in a way that's too familiar to be comfortable anymore, and together we made our way out of the funeral parlor. The air was slightly stale with the smoke of cigarettes, but as we walked closer to Henry's car, the freezing air sent goose bumps up my arms. I shivered a bit before slinking into the front seat of his car.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, getting into his car as he readjusted the mirrors.

"Anywhere but here?" I responded, looking at my hands as they rested in my lap.

"McDonalds?" he shrugged. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday?" I couldn't remember the last time I ate, actually. Even though I _think_ it was yesterday's lunch, but even then, it was probably wasn't that much anyway. A pang of hunger crippled me when I realized that I _was_ hungry. Although part of me felt like I wouldn't be able to keep food down, another part of me felt like I should shut the fuck up and eat a burger.

"Come on," Henry started the car, "let's get some food in you." His old car sputtered to life and made its way out of the parking lot. Had this been another day, I might've made a snide remark about how his car was on its way to the great junkyard in the sky (or in the ground, depending on my mood), but at least it was still alive.

What was I saying? _Did I really want…but she didn't…yet…she was useless, anyway, so why do I care…because she's my mot-_

I pushed the thoughts out of my head and focused on the road ahead of me. I counted lampposts and license plates with the letter "Z" to distract me, keep me focused on something mundane. By the time we reached the drive through, I counted eleven lampposts and four cars with the specific license plate.

"So, uh…what do you want to get? My treat," Henry broke the silence. His voice wasn't any louder than usual, but it was loud enough to jolt me out of my mind numbing game.

"Uh, just fries?" I lamely responded with the first thing that came to mind. I didn't really want to think about anything- even ordering food. When I started to think, my mind would drift to places I'd rather leave untouched.

"You sure? You must be starving, Nat. What else- I insist."

"I'm fine," I snapped. When I saw how he recoiled, I sighed and looked away from him. "Sorry. Uh…I don't really care. Surprise me." The car in front of us moved, so we inched closer to the ordering window.

"Hey, are you okay?" Henry asked.

_No_.

"Yeah." I swallowed. Another silence. The line moved again. He ordered two cheeseburgers, two orders of fries, a Coke for him and a water for me. _$9.25, please proceed to the next window_.

"If you, uh, need or want to talk, just tell me, okay? I don't care if it's three in the morning or anything, you know that…okay?"

_But I don't want to talk about it with anyone_.

"Thanks Henry." He paid the cashier with a limp ten dollar bill, and stashed the change in the middle compartment. I zoned out, again, and only came back to reality when Henry squeezed my hand.

"Hey, it's alright to cry if you want," he said softly. "I'm the only one here."

_I don't want to._

"Thanks," I responded, pissed that my voice cracked when I said it. I tried to focus on the car in front of us- an angry soccer mom was arguing about a Happy Meal gone wrong or something.

"She was your Mom, Nat. It's okay to be upset."

_She wasn't really my mother, though._

"Uh…what did I miss in school today?" I asked meekly, desperately wanting to change the subject.

"Just a quiz in physics. I thought it was easy…which probably means I failed it," Henry shrugged. A tiny smile played on my lips, despite myself. The Happy Meal Lady was still arguing, and I wanted her to get her damn food so we could get ours and I wouldn't have to talk anymore.

"Did anyone mention…yeah." I didn't need to ask the full question; Henry knew what I meant.

"It didn't come up," he lied. He spoke with a voice that was too steady to be truthful and didn't look me in the eye. Of course people talked about it. Why did I even ask that? Did I want him to lie to me? Did I need someone to tell me a lie, just so I could hear what I wanted to hear and maybe believe it?

"So…a lot of people showed up, didn't they?" I whispered, the line still not moving. Henry nodded, not really knowing how to respond. "Everyone feels bad for the girl whose mother killed herself, I guess."

The line finally moved, but Henry didn't move up yet.

"You're more than your mother's shadow, Nat," he said. His voice wavered a bit as he said my name, and he looked me in the eye. I swallowed and blinked back tears starting to form. Thank God it was dark; he didn't notice.

"Yeah. I'm just the daughter she didn't want." Cars were honking behind us, but we still stayed in the one spot.

"She loved you, Nat. You were special to her."

_Big fucking lie_.

"If I was so fucking special to her, then why wasn't I enough?"

"She was sick."

_Understatement of the year_.

"Why do I have to hold on when she gave up?"

"You're stronger, Nat, that's why." Henry kissed my forehead, and I sat there, my stomach in knots.

_No I'm not_.

He finally pulled up to get the food, and I tried to calm myself down.

_Breathe in, breathe out_. _He didn't see what you did to yourself._

Henry handed my food to me. "Want to take off your jacket? My car's heater is broken…again, and I'm sweating." He took off his coat, threw it in the backseat, and shoved a few French fries in his mouth. "Stupid shit car."

_There's no way you're taking off your coat_.

"No," I squeaked.

"Nat, you haven't touched your food yet. What's-"

"Bathroom." I manually unlocked the door and bolted out of the car, running inside. The single unisex bathroom was empty, and I went in. I hung up my coat on the hook and sat on the toilet, shaking. There was a cut on my wrist that wasn't there yesterday morning. I was stupid, it was stupid, it was weak of me.

I wasn't strong; I did what she did, didn't I?


End file.
